


Brushing my fingers through those silky locks

by flaminpumpkin



Series: Those things I love [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Atsumu is confused cut him some slack, Day 6, Emotional Constipation, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mysophobia, Panic Attacks, Post-Time Skip, Slight nudity I guess, Tier 1, germaphobia, mention of bullying, sakuatsuweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaminpumpkin/pseuds/flaminpumpkin
Summary: The blond groaned loudly, letting go of his phone to rub the heel of his palms to his eyes in frustration. Exposure therapy my ass! It just made it worse!All of a sudden, the door of the room opened and banged against the wall with force. Atsumu jumped in surprise, ready to yell in offense at whoever it was but the words died in his throat."Omi-kun?"
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Those things I love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682740
Comments: 24
Kudos: 767
Collections: Haikyuu, SakuAtsu Week 2020, ~SakuAtsu~





	Brushing my fingers through those silky locks

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution to sakuatsuweek day 6 for the first tier hurt/comfort! (The title is awkward but I'm always trash at coming up with something nice) 
> 
> I apologize in advance if the characterization throws you off or if it seems ooc, this is my first time writing them (and some others for that matter), so I'm probably not really on point.  
> Once again, english not being my first language, I also apologize for any horrendous grammatical or spelling mistake.  
> Some other ships are also mentioned or hinted so I didn't tag them because it wasn't relevant to me and I didn't want to clogg the other ships tags so if you wanna know beforehand: osasuna, bokuaka, inunaki shion/adriah thomas 
> 
> Now, a little hc of mine I didn't really explain in the fic is that I think the bjs all know about each other's sexuality and are cool with it.
> 
> Ok, I think that's all I had to say concerning the fic. If you see anything that needs to be added to the tags please feel free to tell me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> Edited 17/4/20  
> I noticed some typos while going through it last night, I hope people who already read it didn't mind, sorry orz

Thunderstorms.

They reminded him of thunderstorms. Pitch black, shinning with an electric energy. Making him look dangerously unpredictable. And he was.

Atsumu loathed himself for it but he loved them, not that he’d ever admit it. He’d rather die a painful and gruesome death than ever telling his perpetually grumpy, judgemental teammate that his eyes were the most perfect he’d seen in his whole life. How nauseatingly romantic that would be.

He was suddenly snapped out of his disgusting musing by a forceful clap on his shoulder.

“Nice match today, Atsumu!” his captain congratulated him.

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything, another strong hand came crashing down on his back, almost sending him head first in his locker.

“Yeah! Your tosses were so good today Tsum-Tsum!”

“Geez Bokkun!” he said in a strangled voice. “Hit me harder next time, would ya? Ya didn’t quite break my back in half yet.”

He turned around with a glare, ready to snark back at the owlish man – his tosses are perfect, not just good – only to find that Bokuto had swung his arm back for another “friendly pat”, smiling like a maniac. Eyes going wide, Atsumu quickly dodged with a yelp.

“Bokkun! Ya absolute mad man!” he screeched.

Bokuto thunderous laugh echoed in the locker room, sending the whole team into a fit.

Atsumu liked this team – another thing he’ll never admit – but recently it seemed like they had taken a liking to laugh at his expense. Even Shoyo-kun, Mister Sunshine Smile and Positivity, had started roasting him at any given chance. Even Bokuto, who he had thought was just a big dumb muscle head too nice for his own good, was looking at him with mischief in his eyes 24/7. Every last one member of the Jackals. Well everyone except…

A scoff and a disapproving click of a tongue. Atsumu turned his head towards the sound only to find those stormy eyes glaring down at him. Again. For what reason this time? He was about to find out.

“What is it Omi-kun? Can’t help staring at my beautiful bod? Ya can say it.”

He winked condescendingly, smirk dancing on his face, at the man standing next to him only for said man to scrunch his nose in disgust. Sakusa’s eyes turned darker, gleaming like lightning. Oh, how Atsumu loved pushing his teammate’s buttons only to see those beautiful black eyes shift and change. Getting reactions out of that expressionless man was the blonde’s favorite sport. After volleyball.

“You’re standing in front of my locker, Miya. Move.”

Atsumu’s smirk widened.

“No need to deny it. I know I’m a snack.”

“Narcissism isn’t attractive, Miya. Now shut up and move.”

And there was an edge to Sakusa’s voice that told Atsumu it was time to back off, because even if he was an asshole, he wasn’t that much of an asshole. He knew why the other man always went to the locker room first, his germaphobia wasn’t a secret, but after official matches, everyone was requisitioned for interviews, which meant everyone was in the changing room at the same time. Which probably meant overwhelming sensations for Sakusa.

So he stepped aside. It was a good occasion to admire his athletic body anyway. Not that Atsumu was going to. He was not going to look hungrily at the wide expense of Sakusa’s back and at the muscles rippling underneath his fair skin. Nor was he going to leer at the toned muscles in his arms as he dried his face, or at the treasure trail of curly black hair disappearing under the thin white towel covering his-

“Oi, keep those hungry eyes for when nobody’s around Atsumu. The baby needs to stay out of your dirty business. His innocence is at stake with you around,” deadpanned someone.

Atsumu snapped his gaze back to his teammates only to find Shion watching him with a meaningful look.

“I wasn’t-”

“Who’s the baby?” quipped Adriah in broken japanese, innocent eyes questioning their libero, and Atsumu was forever thankful of his intervention.

“You’re the baby.”

Shion smiled teasingly but nobody could mistake the soft look in his eyes. Adriah turned red and buried his head in his locker as quickly as he could, like the overly shy ostrich he was.

“I thought Hinata was the baby,” interjected Meian from somewhere in the shower.

“Hinata spent two years in Brazil,” he answered, as if it justified Hinata not being a baby and, therefore, less innocent.

And it kind of did.

Every pair of eyes zoomed in on the red head. Hinata turned around, his face the incarnation of mischief with its wide plotting grin, and sauntered happily towards the shower, completely ignoring them. There was a beat of silence. And then the changing room exploded in loud chatter again, definitively diverting the conversation from Atsumu.

He sighed, for once relieved the attention wasn’t on him. He hadn’t realized how obvious he was. Had his old teammates from Inarizaki been there, they wouldn’t have let go of him until he admitted his crush on the black haired asshole. A shiver ran down his spine. He wasn’t even ready to admit it to himself.

Stripping his jersey off, he turned around only to be met by the judgemental glare of a very disgusted Sakusa Kiyoomi. And call Atsumu a masochist, but that just made him like the guy even more. Does he have a kink? Maybe. Is he ever going to face the truth? Nope. Atsumu rolled his eyes. _Alright, enough of that_.

He groaned loudly and let out a very frustrated “Will ya stop looking at me like that?”

“Don’t come anywhere near me,” came the low answer as Sakusa adjusted the collar of his very fitting thermal shirt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 _Liar, liar, pants on fire! You’ve been having wet dreams starring that asshole since the first All Japan youth camp_. Admonishing his own conscience for calling him out, he finished sheading his clothes in a haste and rushed to the showers, his teammates’ chatter a welcomed sound. Hot water sprayed on his face, washing away the day’s sweat and grim, and Atsumu let his thoughts wander.

This whole thing was getting out of hand.

When he had first attended the All Japan youth camp, he had gone with one objective : proving he was the best, that he was better than his brother, better than any high school setter in all Japan. Unfortunately, that was without counting on this first year wing spiker with short curly hair and obsidian eyes. The moment Atsumu had laid eyes on him, he had known, whether it had been conscious or not, that he would be drawn to him. And he had been. Almost immediately.

Sakusa had already been considered an amazing player at the time, with his bendy wrists able to put a nasty spin to the ball, and Atsumu had taken pride into being the only setter at camp whose Sakusa always hit the tosses. Every last one of them. Never letting one ball drop to the ground because it didn’t suit his prickly preferences. Atsumu had felt powerful then, but for him, it had only been that; the thrill of contenting a picky player.

He had gone home that year with his chest puffed up with pride, ready to rub everything in his twin’s face. Only to fall from his little cloud the morning after, waking up breathing heavily, drenched in sweat and sticky where he shouldn’t have been. He had remembered dreaming of stormy eyes and a mop of black curls and that had felt like a bucket of cold water in the face.

Miya Atsumu, sixteen at the time, had had his very first wet dream. About a guy. And not a faceless, nameless, forgettable guy, no. He’d had a wet dream about the ever surly Sakusa Kiyoomi. How he had hated himself after that. He had hated himself probably more than Osamu hated him, which was, in all honesty, a surprising fit. Not because his first wet dream had been about a guy – Atsumu had accepted long ago girls didn’t attract him – but because he had horrible tastes! Who in their right mind would like this guy?

Anyway. He forgot about it after some time (he forced himself to, really). Second year of high school had rolled around, and with it, his second invitation for U19. What a gift. Another occasion to rub his superior skills in Osamu’s ugly mug. He’d swallowed his pride pretty quickly after catching a glimpse of slightly longer dark curly hair, right upon arrival. That year’s camp had taken a serious toll on the stability of his already unstable mental state. Even that midget from Kamomedai hadn’t managed to occupy his thoughts long enough for him to forget about his weird attraction, even with how much the guy had asked for attention.

By the time the third camp had came around, he’d had accepted his fate. He found Sakusa attractive, physically speaking. _Maybe it’s life’s way to tell me I’m an ass_ , he’d thought. Until… _Nah, fuck that_. That marked a turning point for Atsumu. It had been freeing, admitting this to himself, because whether he’d liked it or not, Sakusa was objectively attractive. Rather well built, for a teenager with such a lanky frame, beautiful stormy eyes framed by shiny black curls.

Those eyes had haunted him for quite a while after high school. But graduation was a relief. The yearly reminder that this man existed was no longer there, so Atsumu had gone on with his life, forgetting little by little about Sakusa.

He’d been scouted right after graduation, a two years contract with a division 2 team. Not the best, he’d had to admit, but he’d decided it would give him more room to grow as a player – an incredibly mature approach that had shocked more than one, especially coming from him. When the Black Jackals had hold open try-outs, right after the end of his first contract, he’d jumped on the occasion. Coach Foster had been thrilled with his performance and one week later, he had signed his new contract with the MSBY Black Jackals and attended his first practice with a division 1 team.

The team was great: powerful players, good team dynamic, a friendly and teasing atmosphere reigning; which meant a lot to Atsumu. After Osamu had announced he wouldn’t keep playing volleyball, Atsumu had been lost, even if he hid it pretty well. His brother was the only one who put up with his sewer personality no matter what. It was still true to this day. So not having him around had been hard and the young man had been forced to work on that bad attitude of his, which had not been easy in his first team.

But the Jackals were an overly friendly bunch of guys, especially Bokuto, and their never ending teasing had managed to smooth out Atsumu’s sharp edges, making his attitude a bit more bearable. Granted, he was still an asshole, but his attitude was a bit less trashy.

His setting skills had gotten even better and, a year later, he’d been promoted to the spot of first string setter. Needless to say, he’d never been happier.

It had been another two years before it happened. Coach Foster had come one day announcing they were welcoming a new team member, a rookie fresh out of university. The day after is the day Sakusa Kiyoomi had come crashing back into Astsumu’s life, like a bull into a porcelain store: at full speed, wreaking havoc in its wake.

But the problem was, and that made the blond smile sardonically, that his attraction to the dark haired man had quickly become more than just physical. And that’s what Atsumu refused to admit. He didn’t want to face the fact that Sakusa’s abrasive personality made him want to know more and get closer. That his thing with germs was weirdly endearing. Or even that Atsumu sometimes found himself wanting to be the one Sakusa would finally accept in his small bubble and be able to touch without disgust.

Feelings scared Atsumu because he didn’t know what to do with it. He was an emotionally constipated jerk who didn’t know how to deal with feelings and that scared the pants off of him. Feelings made him feel completely helpless and he wasn’t used to not knowing what to do. Liking someone for something else than their physics was new to Atsumu and-

Hang on a second. Did he just acknowledge that what he felt for Sakusa was… romantic feelings?

His eyes went wide with shock, mouth agape.

So that was then, standing in the communal showers under the now lukewarm spray of water, completely alone in the empty room, that Miya Atsumu, twenty-three years old, finally admitted to himself:

“Shit. I have a crush on Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

And the panic settled.

  


* * *

  


“’Samu. I have a problem.”

“More than one, trust me.”

“Shut it, scrub. I’m being serious.”

“Me too.”

_Beep._

  


* * *

  


Atsumu was sitting cross-legged on his bed, squeezing angrily his pillow against his chest and waiting for his brother to pick up his phone. Again. After hanging up on him. Again. For the third time in a row. Osamu was being a little shit. But he still needed to talk to his brother.

“Ya done throwing your tantrum or not ‘Tsumu? I’m tired, I wanna sleep.”

It _was_ pretty late, that much Atsumu agreed with. It had taken him more time than he cared to admit to get out of his stupor after his little self-revelation in the showers and the rest of the evening had happened in a blur. He couldn’t even remember what he had eaten for dinner.

“I wasn’t throwin’ a tantrum. You were being a jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he heard his brother say around a loud yawn “So, what’s yer damage? Other than the usual, I mean.”

“Fuckin’-Can ya be serious for two seconds?”

There was a long pause. Another loud yawn. And then another. Ok, at this point Atsumu knew Osamu was messing with him. But still, he said,

“Get on with it, will ya?”

“Sheesh, couldja sound a lil bit less annoyed?” the blond groaned with a hard squeezed around his pillow.

“’Tsumu-“

“I think I like Omi-kun,” he rushed out through gritted teeth.

“You think?”

And the tone of Osamu’s voice made him cautious.

“Yeah… No. I mean-I’m sure. I have a huge ass crush on that asshole.”

“Took ya long enough,” he yawned again. The little sufficient lilt of his twin’s voice made Atsumu tick.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah I heard ya. That’s my problem.”

There was a pause. Atsumu’s brain processed. Dread descended upon him.

“I was really that obvious?!”

“Sheesh, stop screeching ya harpy.” Atsumu faintly heard.

He pictured his twin having suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear and rubbing it because of the sudden noise. That made him feel a little better.

“’Samu. Was I really that obvious?”

“’Tsumu, out of five complaints you make every phone call, three are about him. I’ll let you do the math.”

And that… was not his brother. Wait a minute.

“Rin?”

“The one and only,” came the drawn out, teasing purr of Suna’s voice.

“What the hell, man. Why didn’t ya speak up earlier?” he whined and he could literally see the smirk on Suna’s face as he answered.

“Because it’s funnier to listen to you struggle.”

Bursts of laughter echoed through Atsumu’s phone and he couldn’t get more annoyed. He’d reached out to his brother for advice, not to be laughed at.

“Come on guys, a little help here.”

When the laughter renewed on the other side of the line, Atsumu decided he’s had enough of it.

“Alright, I’m hanging up.”

“No wait!”

“We’ll listen!”

An indignant huff escaped his lips. He was really tempted to hang up on them anyway but, again, he needed to talk about it with someone because this whole ordeal made him feel uneasy and he hated it.

“So,” and he cleared his throat a bit before speaking again “I like Omi-kun. Old news apparently, since I was being obvious. How do I get rid of it?”

The silence on the other side was deafening. A moment later, it was Suna who spoke up first.

“What do you mean “how do I get rid of it”?”

“What do you mean what do _I_ mean? I can’t be any clearer.” Like what he just said wasn’t comprehensible enough for them. He knew they were dumb but maybe not that much.

“’Tsumu, ya can’t exactly get rid of feelings. That’s not really how it works.”

Osamu’s tone unnerved him. It made him feel like a child.

“Then what?” he snapped.

There was a pause. A long pause. Atsumu was itching to hang up on them once and for all but he bit his lip and waited anyway. What exactly could he lose except a few minutes of sleep? If he’s able to sleep at all.

“I don’t know what you want us to say, ‘Tsumu. Ya either deal with it or confess. There’s, like, fifty percent chance he likes you too. I mean, you guys are both assholes,” Osamu conceded.

“Oi-”

“Birds of feather flock together,” added Suna in a bored voice.

Sheesh, those two were really made for each other, Atsumu thought.

“So there’s really no way around it?”

When he was met with silence again, he sighed angrily.

“I’m not confessing to him. I don’t wanna be humiliated. I mean, I personally don’t mind when he looks down on me-”

“We really don’t need to know about your kinks.”

“Shut up,” he snapped again. He was starting to feel antsy. “Like I said I don’t mind, but I don’t wanna have to deal with rejection. That shit gonna hurt, I can feel it. T’was already weird enough to realize, I don’t want it to hurt too.” And oops, maybe that was too personal. Atsumu didn’t like to be vulnerable.

“Like anybody wants to be rejected ‘Tsumu.” The blond listened to his brother sigh – he sounded frustrated – but he still waited for him to keep going. “Look, I don’t know what you want us to do. We can’t deal with your feelings for ya. We can listen, that much we can do. But ya need to work on it yourself. First crush is always weird. And if you get rejected, you’ll get over it. You love yerself too much to slack off.”

“Ugh, fine.”

He rubbed his hand over his face, resigned. He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe some kind of magical way to get rid of these sappy feelings once and for all so he could move on with his life. Seriously, of all people… Sakusa was the one he developed a crush on. He had shitty tastes.

“I’ll leave ya two lovebirds. Don’t wanna disturb whatever was goin’ on before I called.”

Atsumu heard them groan in unison. That was better. He felt lighter. The mood of the conversation was too foreign, too heavy for him after all the revelations of the day. He needed something familiar and what was more familiar than the two of them (and Suna) teasing and bickering?

“We were going to bed, dude. Keep your filthy thoughts for yourself.”

Suna sounded done with this whole conversation and by the muffled “I’ll join you in a minute” he heard his brother say, he knew he should leave the two of them alone.

“Oi, ‘Tsumu.”

“What is it ‘Samu?”

“Thanks for coming to me. I know yer emotionally constipated ass just realized it was able to like something else than itself,” ( _Is it roast-Atsumu-day or what?_ ) “But I guess if ya need anything…”

Well, that was… weird, to say the least. The young man took the phone away from his ear to look warily at the screen. The twins weren’t nice to each other like that. They fought and bickered and insulted each other. But Atsumu guessed maybe it was just their way to express love to each other. Because at the end of the day, Osamu was the only one he trusted with his darkest secrets and vice versa.

“I won’t call ya.”

“Exactly.”

They both let out a chuckle but the message still went through, loud and clear. _I’ll be here if you need me_.

Their fight in second year of high school had caused a rift between them. Atsumu had felt like Osamu had been abandoning him and he had recoiled from this bond he shared with his twin. But seeing his brother happy and thriving as much as he was, in a relationship with someone who understood Osamu almost as well as he did and doing something he loved, he couldn’t help but feel proud. Even if it meant he wasn’t by Atsumu’s side. They were slowly working on mending that bond and it started with things like this.

So it’s with a tired but happy little grin that he said,

“Night, scrub.”

“Night, jerk,” Osamu answered. Before hanging up. Abruptly. _Still a little shit_.

Atsumu dropped his phone on top of his comforter and plopped down on his back, still clutching his pillow in a death grip against his chest, as if to protect himself. From what, you ask? Probably feelings realization. Or a continuation of it at least. He didn’t even know anymore.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and summed up everything that was said during his call with his brother (and his annoying significant other) and only found himself just as lost as before. He’d talked to someone else about his crush, they’d told him he couldn’t get rid of his feelings and to either deal with or face it and confess. Which he didn’t want to do.

He was stuck with the first option and that wasn’t any better. Pinning sounded like a real mess. And not the cute kind of mess like in those young adult novels and romantic comedies where everything was always presented to the audience through rose-colored glasses. No, from Atsumu’s perspective, it looked like the kind of mess that made you toss and turn restlessly in your bed until ass o’clock in the morning; the kind of mess that made you humiliate yourself in front of everyone and the very person in front of whom you absolutely wanted to avoid make a fool of yourself. That made him cringe, teeth gritting painfully.

Why did he have to think in depth of his feelings after an excruciatingly long match? He knew how fucked his brain could get when he was exhausted.

Whining loudly, he rolled off of his bed, abandoning his pillow and went to splash some cold water on his face. He hoped it could help him sleep peacefully.

  


Ha. What a fool.

  


He tossed and turned for hours that night and when sleep finally found him, it was everything but restful.

  


* * *

  


A week later found Atsumu at the reception of a hotel, trying desperately to get away from Bokuto and his never ending gushing. Damn, he knew Akaashi-kun was perfect, Bokuto would never shut up about him. And honestly, who could blame him? The guy was the prettiest man Atsumu had ever seen. He was successful in his job, intelligent, attractive, incredibly insightful. The perfect boyfriend for someone like Bokuto. One more reason to get away from him and his heart-eyes.

The young man was aware his teammate just wanted to share his happiness with him because, whether he liked it or not, this overexcited puppy of a man considered him his friend. But this whole conversation – or monologue, if you would – just rubbed in Atsumu’s face his rather sticky situation; said situation being his stupid unrequited crush on the team’s germaphobe extraordinaire.

It got even worse when Meian came to him to give him his key with a shit eating grin, telling him he’d gotten paired up with Sakusa. The blond plastered on his face the fakest smile he could manage, silently cursing his captain. Whatever deity that was out there, it was after his ass. Needless to say that after that, he wasn’t as impatient as before to get out of Bokuto’s grasp.

Unfortunately – he swore he must had had infuriated the gods in a past life otherwise it was just straight up bullying – he felt someone standing menacingly behind him and he could only guess who it was. A glance over his shoulder confirmed it.

“Omi-Omi! Did our dear captain tell you? You have the incredible privilege of rooming with me.” _Way to go_ , he thought at the exasperated face Sakusa made. But he still finished his sentence with a sly wink in his direction.

The taller man clicked his tongue, black eyes boring into him. Sakusa was wearing his mask, as always, but Atsumu didn’t need to see his mouth to know his lips were pursed in annoyance.

“Your either give me the key or get going, Miya. I don’t have time for your antics.”

“Alright, alright, m’comin’,” he mumbled around a sigh, extracting himself from Bokuto’s gorilla hold. As much as being around Sakusa made him feel on edge recently, his two tone haired teammate could be overwhelming too. Especially after being cooped up in a bus with him for five hours.

“See ya later Bokkun.” Turning to face Sakusa, he bowed dramatically low. “Please, lead the way, Omi-kun.”

A click of the tongue and a whoosh of air notified Atsumu of the curly haired man departure. He followed suit, dragging his feet begrudgingly, not exactly eager to be alone in a room with the object of his unwanted affection. Cursing up a storm in his mind all the way to their shared hotel room, the blond started to plan his revenge on his teammates, because he knew, _he knew_ , that Meian wasn’t the only one who was in in this little scheme. He was at least ninety-nine percent sure Inunaki and Barnes were in it too.

Taking his phone out and making sure the other couldn’t see his screen, he shot a text to his twin, whining about spending the next couple of days sleeping in the same room as his crush. Osamu’s answer? A short and simple:

_Call it exposure therapy._

If he had been able to throw his phone across the hallway without looking like a child throwing a temper tantrum he would have. But he wasn’t. So he settled for texting back a single middle finger emoji and shoved the offensive device in his team jacket’s pocket, grumbling.

As soon as Atsumu had opened the door and they’d both took off their shoes, Sakusa made a bee line for the bed closest to the window, inspecting the covers before placing his duffel bag and backpack on top of it and started rummaging in the bigger one. The blond watched dejectedly at the other bed, the one closest to the bathroom. He liked being close to the window too. He’d always been the one sleeping next to the window, for as long as he could remember, whether it was in his and Osamu’s room back home, or in hotels with teammates. But he guessed he could make a concession for once. He huffed. How mature of him.

Seeming to finally find what he was searching for, Sakusa made his way to the bathroom, huge toiletries bag in hand, throwing a “don’t touch my stuff” warningly over his shoulder before slamming the door closed and locking himself in.

Atsumu stood there for a good five minutes, staring blanking at the door Sakusa had closed oh so delicately with a blank face. He let his bag slid off his shoulder and drop on the floor with a thud. As the shower started to run, the blond took it as his cue to face plant heavily on the bed, smothering his own frustrated scream with his pillow.

It was going to be a _long_ couple of days.

  


  


  


  


Atsumu was sitting leisurely on his bed, his back propped up against the headboard with a fluffed up pillow to be more comfortable as he tapped away on his phone to answer some comments on his last tweet. The atmosphere in the room was peaceful, and with good reason. Sakusa had left around twenty minutes ago while the blond had been brushing his teeth after a well-deserved hot shower. Without a word. That had made Atsumu feel a little hurt but he’d ignored it in favor of taking advantage of being alone in the room to breathe freely again.

He didn’t know if he was the only one to feel it, but ever since they had arrived in the room together the air between them had been charged with something heavy. Atsumu couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but it made his hair stand on end every time Sakusa had so much as breathed in his direction. It felt weird.

It was the first time they slept in the same hotel room – usually Atsumu would be paired up with Hinata or Bokuto and Sakusa with Adriah, which apparently suited the former perfectly since he never asked to change – but the young man sure hoped it was the last. He disliked this kind of mood; the kind that influenced the quality of his sleep. His sleeping schedule was already fucked up enough as it was, he didn’t need a night of restless tossing in turning the day before an official match.

But, at the same time, it could be as Osamu said: some kind of exposure therapy. Seeing the guy up close and personal – as personal as sharing a two beds hotel room with a germaphobe could be anyway – might make his feelings go away. Who knew? Maybe the other man had really weird habits, snored like a locomotive or slept with his eyes open. Any positive possible outcome had been thrown out the window the moment Sakusa had exited the bathroom.

The object of his affliction had come out of the bathroom only covered with a towel riding low on his prominent hips, skin still pleasantly flushed from the shower, showing off his lithe body covered in moles; but it hadn’t been the worst. The worst, for Atsumu’s weak resolve, had been the second towel wrapped around his head in a bundle, a single curl of wet black hair escaping from it and landing cutely on Sakusa’s forehead. His heart skipped a beat in his chest just remembering how relaxed his teammate had looked.

The blond groaned loudly, letting go of his phone to rub the heel of his palms to his eyes in frustration. _Exposure therapy my ass! It just made it worse!_

All of a sudden, the door of the room opened and banged against the wall with force. Atsumu jumped in surprise, ready to yell in offense at whoever it was but the words died in his throat.

In the entrance of the room stood a very drenched in water, very hyperventilating Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu could see him trembling all the way to his bed. Stormy black eyes were blown wide, wild and unfocused, like a raging thunderstorm. And not the good kind, the one that left an eerie atmosphere behind. This was the kind that ravaged and destroyed everything in its path.

“Omi-kun?” Atsumu made sure to keep his voice even because by the look of it, Sakusa was anything but calm. Getting off the bed slowly, he felt like he was approaching a frightened animal.

The sound of Atsumu’s voice seemed to kick him out of whatever state he was in and Sakusa dashed for the bathroom door, ripping it open before slamming it closed. The shower started to run almost immediately.

“What the fuck?” the blond said to the empty room.

What the hell had just happened? He was bewildered. The absolute panic that had filled Sakusa’s eyes had thrown him off. Never, in all the years Atsumu had known him, had he looked this panicked. Slightly concerned, yes. Mostly when it came to his germ thing. But panicked to the point of heavy breathing and violent shaking? Never.

It made him antsy.

He went to the door and knocked lightly.

“Omi-kun?”

No answer. He knocked again, a bit more forceful this time, and called the other man’s name. The only sound that came from behind the door was water coming from the shower spray. The blond frowned, lips pursing. _He’s gonna bite my head off for this but_ …

He turned the door handle and opened slowly. Peeking inside, his heart twisted violently in his chest, his worry skyrocketed as he witnessed the prostrated form of his teammate. Sakusa Kiyoomi, ever judgemental, always proud, never ashamed Sakusa Kiyoomi was sitting naked on the tiled floor of the shower, curled up in the tight ball, face hidden in his knees. One of his arms was wrapped around himself protectively while his other hand was clutching his hair, knuckles white from the strength of his hold. He looked… so small. Nothing like the pro volleyball player Atsumu knew.

What suddenly shocked him out of his stupor and sprung him into action was the heavy fog of steam coming from the shower stall to hit him in the face.

“Omi-kun what the hell?!” He lunged for the faucet and turned it off quickly, hissing as droplets of scalding hot water hit his skin. “Are ya trying to boil yerself alive?!” he shrieked, panicked at the sight of Sakusa’s scarlet back.

The sound of Atsumu’s voice caused the other man to flinch harshly before shriveling in on himself even more. What the actual fuck? He was trembling all over despite the temperature of the water that had come from the shower head. Eyes locking on the tight fist in the mass of Sakusa’s dark hair, Atsumu scowled deeply. This had to hurt.

“Hey Omi,” he tried to keep his voice as low and calm as he could, given the situation. “Are you… alright?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Atsumu realized how stupid he sounded. Of course he wasn’t alright. He’d just found him curled up on the floor, taking a shower so hot his back looked like skinned red tuna. When the only response that came from the taller man was his labored breathing, Atsumu knew he had to intervene before it could get any worse.

He crouched down to Sakusa’s level, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between the two of them.

“Hey, Omi-kun?”

The other man kept his head stubbornly hidden between his knees. Atsumu sighed deeply.

“Sakusa,” he said in a stern voice.

That elicited a reaction out of the panicked man in front of him as he raised his head a bit, just enough to peek at Atsumu out of the corner of his eye.

“Sakusa,” he repeated in a softer tone, “I know yer having a panic attack and, by the look of it, a pretty harsh one. So let me help, yeah?”

The black haired man turned his head fully at that, eyeing Atsumu warily. Who could blame him? Atsumu wasn’t exactly known to be a nice guy. He closed his eyes and exhaled. _Time to try and be a decent human being ‘Tsumu_ , he thought to himself as he opened his eyes again, only to be met by Sakusa’s cautious gaze.

“Do you wanna, I don’t know, talk about it?” Atsumu tried. At the full body shiver that shook the man in front of him, the blond knew that was not an option.

“Alright. No talking about it. Got it. Uhm…” He tried to think of something that would take the frenzied edge away from Sakusa’s watchful expression when his eyes landed on the fist in his hair.

He could remember clear as day how his mother would pet his and Osamu’s head when they were little, raking gently her slim fingers in their black tuft of hair to calm them down when they were upset. Maybe he could try and do that to Sakusa? Except he would never let him. The figurative light bulb turned on in Atsumu’s head and he locked eyes with his teammate. Sakusa would never let Atsumu pet his hair. But maybe he would let him…

“Omi-Omi, do you want me to wash your hair?” he asked.

The look the dark haired man gave him upon these words screamed _What are you babbling about, you idiot?_ but he still tried. At least it seemed to distract Sakusa from whatever that had caused his panic in the first place, even if only a little. Atsumu gulped, suddenly less sure of himself. But he kept on talking anyway, because if he had to make an idiot out of himself to bring Sakusa down from his panic, he would gladly do it, to the horror of his own ego. Apparently liking someone made you do that sort of things.

“Ya see, my mom would always pet mine and ‘Samu’s hair when we were sad or somethin’ and that would always make us feel better but since ya would never let me pet ya I thought maybe washin’ it would be better and it’s the closest that I can think of and I’m sure it would make ya feel better and-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sakusa said curtly, cutting off the young man’s rambling. But even though the words were meant to be rude, the slight tremor of his voice completely nullified the effect.

Atsumu clamped his mouth shut and waited, trying to come up with something, anything, to make the taller man relax. He’d never had to deal with this kind of things. Sure, he’d seen his brother and teammates get agitated or distraught over some stuff, but never to the point of panicking so bad they’d hurt themselves, especially not willingly. Thinking about it, Suna’d had a severe anxiety attack back in high school, but Osamu had been the one to deal with it. His brother had always been the most considerate one out of the two of them.

To preoccupied wracking his brain for ideas, he saw Sakusa’s lips move but failed to register what he said.

“What?”

Sakusa was looking at him cautiously again, black eyes searching Atsumu’s face. He looked so out of character like this, Atsumu hated it. The taller man tightly closed his eyes, and inhaled a trembling breathe before whispering,

“Ok.”

The blonde’s eyes went wide but he decided against asking the other man to repeat himself a third time. Instead, he got up to wash his hands, and his forearms for good measure, just to be sure to not further spook Sakusa. He grabbed the shampoo bottle from the toiletries bag sitting on the shelves next to the mirror – some special curly hair shampoo that looked way more expensive than it should be – and went to place himself behind his teammate. Looking down, he noticed the skin of Sakusa’s back was still as red as before and the fist in his hair hadn’t let up any pressure.

He crouched down again, making sure to not touch the other.

“You’re gonna hafta take that hand out if ya want me to work properly.” And to his surprise, Sakusa obliged without a word, hugging himself instead.

Good. Atsumu poured some shampoo in his hand and settled the bottle on the tiled floor before rubbing his palm together to spread the soap there.

“Alright,” he sighed to calm his own nerves, “I’m gonna touch you now, ok?”

He was met with silence. Taking it as his cue to move, the blond placed his hands on top of Sakusa’s head, not moving immediately. The other man stiffened under his touch but stayed otherwise immobile, not saying anything. It was better than whatever Atsumu had expected. He had expected more panic, lashing out, denial, snarky remarks and venomous “I’m fine”… Not compliance. _He must really be out of it_ , was what came to his mind as he lathered up the shampoo in Sakusa’s hair, making sure to keep his touch light nonetheless.

Atsumu gathered up the strands that had fallen against his forehead, slicking the black hair back and started to rub the other man’s scalp in small circles. A fresh scent came tickling his nostrils as foam formed between his fingers and he thought it was fitting. Unlike his behavior right now.

The blond hated how small and frightened Sakusa had looked when he opened the door. How the sound of his voice had made him flinch and recoil. He hated to see him in such a subdued state he accepted Atsumu’s touch without a word, even if Atsumu knew he would’ve had protested if he hadn’t been ok with it.

Still, it made him uneasy. Sakusa wasn’t supposed to be like that. He was supposed to be a prideful jerk with sarcasm as his only emotion. At least that’s what Atsumu needed him to be to get rid of his feelings. He’d never be able to help himself after seeing his surly teammate so vulnerable. He’d never be able to forget that this harsh exterior was only an act.

Lost in his thought for the nth time this evening, the soft sigh he heard as his thumb rubbed at the nape of Sakusa’s neck is what brought him back to the present in a second. Curious, he did it again and the man in front of him tilted his head forward just a bit. That… was a positive reaction, right? Atsumu decided to try his luck and started kneading and scraping gently his fingers at Sakusa’s undercut, at the base of his nape.

The taller man’s shoulders and deltoids began to relax right in front of Atsumu’s eyes, making him crack a small smile. He took it as the small victory it was and kept massaging there before moving up again, brushing his finger through smooth, wet locks and creating more fresh-scented foam in his wake. Even wet and soapy, Sakusa’s hair felt soft and silky against the skin of his hands. He allowed himself to guiltily relish in the feeling for a moment before storing the information away for later. He had a whole different objective right now, and it wasn’t admiring his teammate’s silky smooth hair.

So he kept rubbing at Sakusa’s scalp for a good while, glad to see that after some time he had stopped trembling and his breathing pattern was less chaotic, inhaling and exhaling deeply and evenly. Sakusa seemed a lot calmer now, a lot more relaxed than when he’d come barging in earlier. Was it because of the cleaning process? Because of Atsumu’s (poorly hidden at this point) petting? Or simply because of Atsumu? He didn’t know, he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him at this moment was making Sakusa feel safe and comfortable, not his own selfish feelings.

Sakusa started moving. Atsumu thought he was going to send him off, but he just rolled his shoulders, lowering his legs to sit cross-legged, hands in his lap and oh shit! Atsumu’s eyes turned up to the ceiling at light speed, blush rising to his cheeks. Sakusa was still very much naked. He had forgotten this little fact in his haze.

“Miya.”

Atsumu gulped. _He didn’t catch me looking, did he?_

“What?” he croaked in a small voice.

“You’re not going to ask what happened?”

_Huh?_

“Huh?”

His own eloquence stunned him sometimes. He stared dumbly at the back of Sakusa’s head for a long second before he cleared his throat, words finally registering.

“Don’t really wanna see you all panicky again.”

There was a long pause where neither of them talk. Atsumu kept running his fingers through Sakusa’s hair, not really paying attention to his movement anymore, just committing the feeling of luscious locks under his fingers to memory while Sakusa took long, calming breaths in.

“I went to a konbini to buy some energy bars because I didn’t pack enough and the clerk just started coughing all over it when I went to pay. I freaked out and left without taking the bars with me. I didn’t even realize it was pouring outside until I took off my clothes.” He paused, taking in another deep breath before continuing. “It usually doesn’t trigger a panic attack, I just get annoyed and disinfect everything thoroughly afterwards. But I guess the lack of sleep caught up to me and this is what I get for it.”

That made Atsumu pause. Sakusa hadn’t been sleeping well? That was rather surprising. He’d always struck Atsumu as someone with an impeccable sleeping schedule, with how worried about his health he was and all that. He said so to the other man and was surprised by his response.

“I usually do. But there had always been some times in my life where my brain wouldn’t leave me alone and kept me awake at night,” he said in a pensive tone.

Atsumu huffed at that. It hit close to home, so he understood perfectly.

“Yeah, tell me about it. It gets like that for me too sometimes. It sucks.”

The taller man hummed. “It had been a while, though. Since last time. It just-” Sakusa cleared his throat, shuffling as if uncomfortable. “I guess something has been on my mind lately.”

 _Oh, really? Me too_ , Atsumu wanted to say, but instead he just offered in a small, uncharacteristic voice:

“We’re more similar than we thought in the end Omi-kun.”

And Sakusa snorted. He _snorted_. What a cute sound.

“Please don’t say that again. I don’t want to have another panic attack,” Sakusa sassed back, monotonous voice lilting teasingly.

“Oi.”

But Atsumu let out a quiet laugh anyway. Companionable silence fell over them, making Atsumu let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The atmosphere was significantly less tensed after that and the blond didn’t know why Sakusa let him keep washing (petting) his hair like that. He wanted to tell him so but decided against it. After all, maybe the other man still needed the comfort and who was Atsumu to deny him.

That’s the moment that _one_ recurring question Atsumu always asked himself when it came to Sakusa chose to come tickle his brain-to-mouth filter. He bit his lips.

“Hey, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa only hummed in response but it didn’t sound annoyed. It was a good sign.

“I was wondering… about the germ thing.”

“What about it?” His answer was defensive, the exact opposite of what Atsumu wanted.

“W-well, was it, like, always like that? Or did something happened? Or maybe you just woke up one morning hatin’ germs? I was just wondering. I won’t judge-”

“Shut up,” came the dry voice. He didn’t sound defensive anymore though. Not even angry. Just… tired.

Atsumu didn’t want to push him so he stayed silent. This was the longest and most civil conversation they’d had since… Probably since they’d met. He didn’t want to disturb this fragile balance they just found so he kept silent. He felt more than he saw the other man hunch over slightly before he spoke again, in his usual monotonous voice.

“I was bullied when I was in elementary school. They would call me a monster because of my wrists,” Sakusa paused, for his sake or for Atsumu’s? He didn’t know. “I guess one day pushing me around wasn’t enough for them anymore so they cornered me somewhere nobody would see and just emptied a trash bag on me. It was full of …”

A full body shiver shook the man in front of him and Atsumu couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Sakusa was a weird double-jointed asshole, yes. But, for one, it wasn’t a reason to bully someone and, secondly, he doubted little Sakusa had been anything resembling adult Sakusa attitude wise, which made his blood boil in anger at the cruelty of the act even more.

“Full of whatever was in it. Whether they took the bag out of a random trashcan or collectively filled it with whatever rotten thing they landed their hands on, I don’t know. The effect was the same: I freaked out. Badly. I couldn’t stop crying and the teachers who found me dragged me kicking and screaming to an empty classroom before they called my parents.” He stopped talking again for so long Atsumu thought he was having an anxiety attack again.

“I don’t remember a lot after that. Just that I spent the night locked in the bathroom throwing up and that I didn’t go to school for a whole week after that.”

Atsumu’s heart clenched in his chest. Who would’ve thought this prickly exterior came from a place as bad as childhood trauma? He felt sick at the thought of something similar happening to Osamu. Children often didn’t know how their actions influenced others and their feelings, but this kind of behavior was beyond ignorance. It was meaningless torture, simple as that. At least for him.

“I’m so sorry Omi-kun,” he whispered. “Nobody deserves that.”

“Mmh. I guessed this is what triggered it anyway.”

There was more to it than that? Atsumu kept a frustrated sigh in. Life had really been a bitch to this one, huh? he thought as a need to protect the man in front of him arose in him. He smothered it immediately. He was already knee deep in sappy feelings, he didn’t need more.

“Ya mean it wasn’t like that straight away?”

Sakusa shook his head, sending tiny droplets of water flying.

“No. It got worse when my grandmother died from the flu. We’d always been close, me and her. She was the one I told all my secrets. She was basically my only friend. So when she came down with the flu and had to go to the hospital because it turned into pneumonia, I was… Lost. She died not long after being admitted there and it send me spiraling right down the rabbit hole.”

Sakusa straightened his back and turned his head to the ceiling in a pensive way, so Atsumu dragged his hands in his hair one last time, gathering the foam off his head and slicking his hair back. Once he was done getting rid of the shampoo on his finger, he let his hands rest on his clothed thighs – he needed to change his shorts anyway, they were all wet from being in the shower with Sakusa. 

“My parents decided that I should see a therapist after that. That’s probably the best decision they made,” the dark haired man admitted in an unusually soft voice.

“Ya went to therapy?”

Sakusa glanced at him over him shoulder, brow quirked up in askance.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

And, honestly, Atsumu didn’t know. When he said as much, Sakusa turned to look at the ceiling again.

“It used to be way worse than that, you know?”

Atsumu looked at him in surprise. Not because of what he just admitted, but because he was shocked the other man was so willing to talk about it, with him of all people. But he appreciated the trust Sakusa seemed to put in him, so he encouraged him to continue.

“Yeah?”

Sakusa hums in response. “Mhm. Therapy and volleyball helped over the years. Komori too, when I met him in high school. It was harder during my time in college. I still went to therapy but I couldn’t bring myself to get close to anyone so it was… Complicated. I could feel my teammates weren’t really enthusiast at the prospect of spending more time than necessary with me. I was a good player and that’s it.”

“What about now?” Atsumu prodded.

He watched as his teammates tilted his head to the side in thoughts.

“I like the team,” he finally declared, voice finding his bored edge again. “They’re respectful. And understanding.”

Atsumu remembered with a crooked grin how Sakusa had literally said “Don’t touch me.” in a threatening voice during his introduction. Despite not knowing him or his condition, the team had taken his words to heart. They had made sure to not touch him, on and outside the court, and to respect his personal space. Sakusa had loosened up subsequently after that.

“Even Bokkun and Shoyo-kun?”

Sakusa huffed at Atsumu’s teasing tone.

“Yes. Even them. I know they just want me to feel included. I can’t be mad at them for that.” He paused and Atsumu thought he was done, but surprisingly, he spoke again. “And I know that even though _you_ act like an asshole, you respect my boundaries too. So that helps.”

Atsumu made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, the rest of the black haired man’s words overshadowing his insult.

“R-really?”

Sakusa did not answer. Instead, he looked over his shoulder again and Atsumu could see the corner of his lips quirking up just a bit into the smallest smile. He gaped, staring wordlessly at the other man. He was… star struck. Blood rushed to his face. _Quick. Say something. Anything_.

He gulped loudly around the dryness of his throat and tried to put on an unaffected mask, smirking lazily.

“So, Omi-Omi,” he drawled in a flirtatious voice and that earned him a glare, “want me to wash the rest of ya too or…?”

Sakusa made a face, upturned nose scrunching up in disgust and brows knitting.

“Ew. Get out. You’re disgusting, Miya.”

Atsumu let out a loud laugh as he stood up, knees protesting after staying crouched down like that for so long.

“Ya wound me, Omi-kun. I thought we were closer than that now,” he pouted.

“Miya. Get out before I drown you in the toilet.”

  


  


  


  


Sakusa had been in the bathroom alone for twenty minutes now – Atsumu had kept track – but he wasn’t worried he would boil himself like a lobster anymore. The whole hair washing and talking had seemed to calm him down enough so he wouldn't hurt himself again. Atsumu wouldn’t have left him alone otherwise. For all his teasing and joking, the young man had really been worried about his teammate when he had come back in this state.

Fortunately, it was in the past, partly thanks to him, he liked to think. But seeing Sakusa like that had made Atsumu realize that, yeah, he really couldn’t get rid of his feelings. Not after witnessing the other man in such a state of distress. Not after he had willingly let Atsumu in his little bubble, allowing him to touch him and comfort him.

He sighed, letting himself fall back against the mattress. He was so fucked.

The door of the bathroom opened suddenly and Sakusa stepped out, towel around his hips once again. Atsumu let his eyes roam over the broad expense of his back, noting not too pleasantly how the skin was still abnormally red. At least he had arrived on time before he ripped his hair out of his head, he thought with scowl.

The towel dropped and Sakusa jumped as fast as he could in his spare sweats, but not fast enough to prevent Atsumu from having a good look at his plump ass.

“Nice bum, Omi-kun,” he said, waggling his eyebrows as he sat up and faced the other.

Sakusa turned swiftly, tying the string of his pants. He was glaring at the blond through the wet locks of black hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Piss off, Miya,” he growled frustratingly, eliciting a loud cackle out of said Miya and turned his back to him again but not before Atsumu could catch a glimpse of the light flush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the scalding shower from before. 

The blond leered, unashamed, as his teammate put on a horrid neon orange shirt on. _Why do I like him again?_

“Ya look like a road sign.”

“And you look like-” Sakusa started as he turned around before shutting up immediately. 

His eyes went down to Atsumu thighs. The blond smirked provocatively, eyes hooded. 

After coming out of the bathroom, he had changed into the spare shorts he always brought with him. They were a lot shorter and tighter around his thighs than his regular ones. He raised a brow in silent interrogation when Sakusa’s stormy eyes went back up to his face, smirk widening. Sakusa huffed petulantly and presented him with his back again.

Atsumu couldn’t help the new fit of laughter that escaped him. This was the friendliest those two had ever been with each other and it took them years. Wiping a single tear from the corner of his eyes – he hadn’t had that good of a laugh in a while – his gaze landed on Sakusa’s hair. It was still dripping wet.

“Ya shouldn’t go to sleep with wet hair Omi-Omi,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Sakusa pinned him with a narrowed glare again. The blond leaned forward enticingly, looking at his dark haired teammate from under his eyelashes, teasing smirk spreading even wider on his face.

“M’just sayin’. I could dry it for ya. I know ya always take a hair dryer with ya on trips.”

Sakusa stared at Atsumu, face blank, for a long moment before shrugging nonchalantly, saying:

“Why not? Get your ass over here. I’m not sitting on your bed.”

Atsumu sputtered.

“W-what?”

It was Sakusa’s turn to quirk a brow in question.

“Getting back on what you said, Miya?

“N-no.”

The blond hated how he tripped over the single word, making him look anything but smooth. He tried to regain some sort of dignity by hiding his stutter behind a forced cough, averting his eyes. He failed miserably.

“Then get to work.”

The barely contained smile he could sense in those words made the blond look up again, just in time to catch the hair dryer tossed in his direction. He fumbled to catch it, grasping it by its handle just before it hit the floor.

“Bossy, bossy Omi-kun. Yer lucky I like it,” he commented as he went to plug the dryer in and… fuck. 

He closed his eyes tightly. Why the hell did he have to go and say that? He needed to stop running his mouth like that. Bokuto was a bad influence.

“You have shitty tastes,” he heard as he crouched down to plug the dryer to the socket closest to the bed. 

He stood up again and turned around, taking the single step that separated him from the end of the second bed where Sakusa was sitting.

“Oh yeah? Then what does it say about ya?” he asked, staring down his nose at the other man as he stood at his full height. 

It was nice that for once Sakusa was the one who needed to look up, even if he stared at Atsumu with the most unimpressed expression he’d ever seen on someone’s face.

“That I’m bossy,” he deadpanned.

The blond snorted, turning up the hair dryer and running his fingers through wet locks to untangle them, finding no resistance and happy to see Sakusa hadn't flinched away.

“Nice save, Omi-Omi, nice save,” he murmured, beginning to gently dry Sakusa’s hair.

The hair dryer blew the tousled locks in his direction, a whiff of something catching his attention. Atsumu leaned forward and inhaled as discreetly as he could, hoping Sakusa wouldn’t notice. _Yep, that’s coconut conditioner_ , he thought with a dumb smile.

Sakusa’s head moved under his hand, making him stall, and he thought the other man had caught him sniffing him. But instead the other man just raised his chin, orienting his face towards Atsumu, lips parting slightly in a blissed out expression. If you had told him one week ago that he would be drying Sakusa’s hair in a hotel room, Atsumu would have laughed in your face (before going to cry in a corner, streaming of it happening). And yet, here he was, fingers tangled in silky smooth locks while his crush sat in front of him in a blissful haze, posture completely relaxed under someone else’s touch.

He was ruffling Sakusa’s black curls when his fingers caught in a knot. He tugged, a little bit too harshly, and winced at his own clumsiness, eyes searching the other man’s face for any sign of discomfort.

“Sorry Omi. M’not used to drying other people’s hair.”

Heavy lids opened; hooded, stormy eyes looking incredibly tranquil.

“You’re fine, Atsumu,” Sakusa mumbled in response.

Atsumu stiffened, only to slowly dissolve into a panicking mess at the sound of that deep voice calling him by his given name, accidentally orienting the hair dryer in Sakusa’s eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Atsumu screaming “I’m sorry Omi-kun!” and “Please don’t kill me!” repeatedly could be heard on the entire floor for ten whole minutes that night.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Epilogue: The morning after

Atsumu was rummaging in his bag, trying desperately to find a pack of matcha kitkat in his mess of clothes and other things when he felt someone towering over him. He glanced over his shoulder and surely found Sakusa standing behind him, hands in his pockets and mask firmly in place. Those pitch black eyes were staring down at him through narrowed slits again, but with a new light in them. A glint of something… mirthful?

“What can I do for ya, Omi-kun?” he sighed while turning around to face his teammate. 

He couldn’t help but notice how the other man stood way closer to him than he normally would, forcing Atsumu to lift his chin to keep looking at him.

Sakusa quirked a brow at him, but instead of answering with something snarky, he hooked a finger in his mask and bunched it up under his chin, lowering his face towards Atsumu’s. The blond’s eyes went wide as he felt a soft pair of lips kiss him, lightly and close-lipped before retreating. (Thank god he had gargled mouthwash after brushing his teeth). Sakusa didn’t go far though, staying so close to Atsumu’s face the blond could see every single one of his absurdly long eyelashes, lips a hairbreadth away from his as he said in a low, tentative voice:

“I wouldn’t mind letting you wash my hair again.”

Atsumu sucked in a breath, mouth agape as he watched, powerless, as Sakusa put his mask back in place, catching a glimpse of a smile. 

_What the fuck just happened._

The black haired man didn’t leave him any time to process though, throwing a “We’ll be late” over his shoulder while exiting the room.

And as expected, Atsumu scrambled after him, dumbstruck and a little bit more in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm sorry it took 5k-ish to arrive to the hurt/comfort part but things took a left turn while I was writing and I got carried away. I hope you liked it anyway!  
> Don't hesitate to comment, feedback keeps me going and it's always nice to read people's opinion.
> 
> Just a little heads up : this work is going to be part of a serie I decided to create after finishing this piece and I'll be working on it in the next few months (I'm slow so bear with me if you're interested) but it can be read as a stand alone.


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